


The National Treasure Job

by PrancingProngsy



Category: Leverage, National Treasure (Movies)
Genre: Other, another stupid job, dumb plots no one asked for, i didn't mean to do this but here we are., national treasure - Freeform, what's next oceans eleven??
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-10-18 11:58:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17580398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrancingProngsy/pseuds/PrancingProngsy
Summary: This is exactly what you think it'd be.What if Leverage Consulting and Associates was hired to steal the Declaration of Independence? Well. It'd turn out just like that movie with Nic Cage that one time and everyone would be making jokes about it the whole time.





	1. The Job

John McRory’s Place had a sort of ambiance. Anyone who ever came to see Nathan Ford felt it as soon as they walked in. It was almost like their problems were being lifted off their shoulders already, a sense of relief, really. That was exactly what Kameron Hunely felt when she walked in, eyes roving over the subtle roar of the place. It was busy, which was good. But not too busy. Also good. In her hand she clasped a worn brown accordion folder that was held closed with a stretched out piece of elastic. She took a moment to collect herself, a shaky breath hissed through her thin lips before she made her way to the bar, kitten heels clicking on the floor as she did. Kameron leaned over the counter to attract the red head behind the bar’s attention and offered a sheepish smile. Pushing her glasses up, Kameron offered another apologetic smile before, in a small voice, she asked, “Can you point me in the direction of Nathan Ford, please?” 

She was greeted with a warm smile and a gesture. Seated in the corner booth in the back, a cup of coffee in front of him, sat a wild haired man, who looked almost smug, like he was surveying the land and it was his, somehow. Kameron supposed that he fit the bill. Even if he was wearing a sweater. She didn’t think criminals wore sweaters, let alone ones that had the reputation that Ford and his crew had here. Not even just in town, but in general. Kameron returned a soft smile and a nod and ordered herself a glass of liquid courage before carefully making her way into Nathan Ford’s proverbial office. 

Nate’s eyes had tracked her from the moment she walked in. Nate knew it was her from the sort of terrified way she held her shoulders and the way she glanced over her shoulder like she was afraid that someone might come up behind her and do something unsavory. Or maybe she was just worried that someone had followed her. Either way, when she’d made the appointment to speak with him, Nate had been skeptical. Which was exactly why Sophie slid into the booth next to him, a manicured hand on his knee before she laced them both together on top of the table, eyes bright and excited. Eliot was a table away with his back to them. Nate had gotten used to this. Eliot was a lurker, after all. Kameron looked a little more nervous after the arrival of Sophie, but she slid into the booth across from Nate and fixed him with a near apologetic smile. She set the accordion folder down in front of him and gestured for him to open it. 

“She… Said you were Nathan Ford. We talked on the phone. I’m Kameron-- -”

“Kameron Hunely,” Nate interrupted, barrelling over her now, accordion folder untouched, “Head of the Historical Documents Collection at the EPA, yes…” It sounded almost like he was going to continue, but Nate trailed off and fixed her with an almost expectant look before opening up the folder. “You said that you think you uncovered a crime that is about to be committed?” 

There was no doubt in Sophie’s mind that Kameron was scared. Poor thing was nearly shaking like a leaf. A warm hand moved to cover one of her’s and Sophie offered a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. We know what we’re doing. If it’s dangerous-- -” Well she didn’t have to worry if it was. It wasn’t like they hadn’t taken dangerous jobs before. Kameron sipped her drink for a moment and took a deep breath. The shuffling of papers caught her attention as Nate finally freed what information she’d brought from her folder. 

“I should probably explain.” 

Nate raised an eyebrow. Yes, she probably should. Because what he was looking at was a handful of blue prints of the National Archives museum. 

“About a week ago I clocked into work. We’re doing an audit of all the documents we have in alignment with the Declaration of Independence. Usually these things go very easily, we’re a bunch of librarians, Mr. Ford. We don’t like messy. Things are always very neat and organized and we almost always have everything-- -” Kameron seemed to catch herself slipping and took another deep breath. “Anyway, I found something that wasn’t where it should be. A document referring to a ship lost at sea. They found it a couple years ago, so I thought it was just misplaced but when I brought it up to my manager I was reprimanded like I had been the one to misfile it.” Sophie patted her hand again to prompt her forward, “I did some digging. He’s never snapped at me like that before. That’s when I found this.” Kameron reached over to tap a select stack of papers that Nate was slowly plowing through. 

It was a picture of a pipe. Several pictures of a pipe. A magnificent ship carved out of meerschaum and clearly unsmoked. “This was found on the ship, I guess. I still didn’t find any significance to this whole audit until I saw this,” another tap, “I think-- - My boss is going on a quest to find-- - Don’t laugh, please, I laughed myself until I started putting it together… I think my boss is trying to find the lost Templar treasure and I think….” she took a deep breath. “I think he’s going to steal the Declaration of Independence…” 

There was that sort of stunned, almost comical silence that fell between the three of them seated at the booth. Eliot’s hooded head swiveled back to make eye contact with Nate, a scowl that was more questioning than angry. She couldn’t be serious. 

“I know how it sounds!” Kameron insisted, “Trust me, I’ve tried to think of every possible way that I could be mistaken, but I-- - I uncovered some discrepancies in the payroll and I have a feeling this audit is going to very badly for us if he doesn’t get this treasure. You see that riddle… It’s been authenticated and-- - If I know my history it’s talking about the Declaration of Independence. And if I can jump to that conclusion, he can too. You have to understand, Mr. Ford. I’m risking my job even bringing this to you. Our library isn’t even supposed to let anyone who isn’t a trained librarian look at the documents we collect… But this is-- - If he really does believe in some treasure that he thinks might-- - I don’t know. I don’t know what he thinks. All I know is I overheard him talking on the phone to someone who sounded very eager to do some sort of job that he didn’t want anyone else to know about. He said construction. We don’t have any construction planned until the summer, Mr. Ford. You have to admit, all of this is extremely fishy.” 

Despite sounding desperate, Kameron seemed to have found her feet. She was resolute. She needed help. And by god, Nathan Ford and his band of… Criminals were going to help her. Nate didn’t say anything at first, he simply stacked the papers she’d brought and put them back in the folder. After twisting it shut again he finally laced his fingers together and fixed her with a hard look. She wasn’t wrong, of course. All of this sounded very suspect. There was more to the story, Nate was sure of it. He just wasn’t sure what yet. Hardison was probably already on it, if he knew their hacker. Finally he tapped the folder just once and offered a wry smile. This didn’t really sound like their gig. At least not the treasure hunting part. That seemed a bit… Much… 

“What exactly is it that you want us to do for you, Ms. Hunely?”

“I want you to steal it first.”

“It being the-- -”

“The Declaration of Independence, yes.”

“Because….?”

“Because I think whoever Mr. Krimmins hired is going to destroy it. Or-- - If there is a map on the back of the damn thing I think you’re going to screw him over.” 

“Ah.” There it was. All laid out for all of them. A deep frown creased Nate’s lips and he tapped the accordion again. No one else dared say anything. This was Nate’s call, after all. “I will bring this to my team. And then we will decide what we’re doing. Does that sound fair to you?”

Kameron looked over the moon at even the possibility of someone entertaining this whole idea. The FBI had just turned her out like she was some sort of idiot. Everyone else had done the same. She stood and held a decidedly more steady hand out to shake Nate’s. “Thank you, Mr. Ford. I can’t tell you how much that means to me.” Nate gave her hand a shake and Kameron left without another word, but with a little more pep in her step than when she’d walked in. 

“Living room, guys. We need to have a little talk.”

Nate and Sophie slid out of the booth rather gracefully before they made their way upstairs with Eliot as their shadow. Their grumbling shadow. Eliot knew, of course, that the little evil glimmer in Nate’s eye meant they’d be flying to DC. Or driving. It wasn’t that far. 

They were greeted at the top of the stairs by Hardison, sprawled out in his designated chair, remote in hand. Already the screen display that he’d set up on Nate’s wall was full of pictures and tax documents, and records, and bank statements, and anything Hardison could get his hands on in the rather generous ten minutes he’d had since Kameron had started talking. Before he could start in on his briefing though, Nate waved a hand and moved to stand in front of the display as the rest of the team trickled in and took their seats. Parker hadn’t moved from Nate’s counter where she had a bowl of his cereal perched on her knees.  
“What do we think, guys?” 

“You’re asking us?” Eliot said it with just a hint of disbelief. “Man, you know you want to take this one.” And Eliot wasn’t going to stop him. Sophie drew one of her knees to her chest and fixed Nate with a curious look. 

“You-- - You have a plan for all of this, already?” Hardison seemed disappointed. He pouted, tossing the little remote in the air and letting it fall on the footrest before slouching back in his seat. “I don’t know why I even bother anymore.”

“You do have a plan, right?” Parker piped up from the kitchen, finally sliding herself off of Nate’s counter to drape herself over the back of the couch. 

“Of course I have a plan.” Or at least part of one. Nate stood there thoughtfully for a moment before simply saying, “Let’s go steal the Declaration of Independence.” And with that he turned back towards his apartment door and strode off, purpose in every footfall.


	2. The Heist

“Is he serious? He’s being serious, isn’t he?” Hardison whined, shaking his head as he continued to do exactly what Nate had asked anyway. Blue prints. Plans. And several pages of the beginnings of a very impossible plan. The first part, of course, would be to get their people into the gala. Because it just so happened that if they were going to be stealing the Declaration of Independence it would have to be on a night with a lot of bustle in the National Archives. And as luck would have it, there was a party. “This is dumb, Eliot.” 

 

Eliot didn’t say anything, but he did grunt his acknowledgement as he sat on the couch, the pieces of his kit in his lap. An electronic screwdriver, a belt of tools, a glass cutter, a soldering gun, anything that he could possibly need for the actual heist. He knew it was crazy. And dumb. He knew a lot of things. One of the things he knew was exactly how well guarded this place was going to be. Eliot was just glad that Nate had opted for recon during the party and not an actual heist. Because if they were racing against the clock to steal the damn thing before someone else did, they probably picked the same night to do it.

 

The sound of rope zipping across the metal pulley drew their attention upwards as Parker descended from the ceiling. Hardison and Eliot both craned their heads to get a good look at her as she finally came into view. She wore a pout. 

 

“I don’t understand why we can’t take it during the day. We’re seasoned criminals.” She said it with such pride and the two of them almost found themselves swaying to back her up. Almost. Eliot tossed his hair back and scowled. 

 

“Because I don’t wanna wind up rottin’ in prison, Parker.” Not that he would. Eliot could get out fairly easily. But he’d have to come back and break the others out too or it wouldn’t really be worth it. What was the point of breaking out of prison if you had no one yo spend your newly found freedom with?

 

“Besides, I thought you liked a challenge. Stealing it during the day is so much easier than stealing it during the party.” Hardison added, though he didn’t sound too convinced. “I’d like to see you try and shove it up your little dress. Or Sophie. Or any of us.” Now he was mostly talking to himself. 

 

Parker unhooked herself from her harness and dropped onto the couch unceremoniously, disturbing the other too only a little. Eliot still growled and repositioned the belt on his lap. “Stop. Go change. We gotta blend in if we’re gonna run recon.” Parker rolled her eyes and slid comically to the floor before disappearing back up the winding staircase to Nate’s room, where she’d be leaving her gear in his closet in favor of ‘normal’ clothes. Eliot and Hardison traded looks, but said nothing. 

* * *

 

“What’s that? Gunfire?” It’s far too loud in his ear and Eliot doesn’t respond right away which tells Nate that yes, it is gunfire. Which means they were tangling with the team. Earlier than they’d planned. There’s a grunt and Nate’s whirling from his position at the front of the party to make his way back outside. Really, they should have put feelers out to see if they could find whoever was going to be doing this heist as well so they could prepare better. Then again they’d only had three days to put this together and as far as Nate was concerned, this was going very well. 

 

Nate plucked a champagne flute from one of the passing waiter’s tables, and downed it quickly before setting it down on one of the tables on his way out. “Sophie, stay where you are, you might need to create a distraction so we can set up an escape route.” She scoffed, touching at her earring as she turned away from her present conversation to address that particular direction.    
  
“What do you expect me to do?” Her satin black dress hugged everything just so and rather restricted her movements. The price one pays for being the most beautiful woman at this particular gala, she supposed. She tossed her curled hair over one shoulder and offered an amicable smile in the direction of her conversation party as she turned back. 

 

“You’ll think of something.” Nate was undoing his tie before he’d even cleared the front doors, making a bee-line for Lucille, parked on the curb across the street. 

 

Eliot was racing down the hall, backwards, the entire display in his arms. It was heavy, unwieldy, and badly shaped for this, but it had bullet proof glass and the hitter had very little time to think. A bullet whizzed by his ear, the sound, even with a silencer, rather alarming. Eliot peeked around the cock-eyed corner of the huge display to get a look at the shooters. Three of them. Faces were hard at this distance, but Eliot felt like he might be able to identify them later. It’s a very distinctive body shape. 

 

“I’m runnin’ outta hallway here, Hardison! Gimme somethin’!” 

 

Hardison was scrambling in the back of Lucille as the door pulled open and a rather disheveled Nate let himself in. “I know! I know! Give me two seconds to get that elevator door open for you, alright?” The indistinct grumbling from Eliot lessened to a dull sound as Hardison held up one hand to keep Nate from saying anything, other hand furiously tapping away at his computer. 

 

Eliot’s back hit the elevator doors much more solidly than he would have liked. And he wished he wasn’t wearing a tux. Made things a lot more difficult. 

 

It felt like, to all of them, their plan was rapidly unfurling. Nate tossed something onto the floor of the van as he pulled the doors shut behind him and moved to hover anxiously over Hardison’s shoulder. They were lit only by the computer screens and it didn’t look good from where Nate was standing. Through the camera feed Hardison had managed to grab, Eliot was as far back as he could go. Another shot thudded into the front of the glass where they could clearly see the Declaration of Independence. Eliot was pushed back into the doors again. Tension was high. Eliot had stopped grumbling. He looked like he might just put the damn thing down and start throwing fists. 

 

The loud ding of the elevator doors opening gave Eliot barely enough time to take a half step forward so he didn’t go stumbling into the overly lavish elevator like an idiot. “Finally!” which was his way of saying thank you. He piled into the elevator, mindful of the display case as he did. Shots continued to whiz by even as the doors dinged again and started to close. Eliot felt something hot and sharp and very very familiar tear through the fabric of the suit and his shirt and his skin. He didn’t flinch he just scowled. As soon as they doors were closed, the hitter bent over the case, turned it over, and pulled the electric screwdriver from his belt to begin undoing the screws holding the whole thing together. 

 

Parker’s voice from above caused him to crane his neck upward, hair loosening from his ponytail a little now, “Hurry up already! We don’t have all night!” 

 

Eliot’s response was growled out, “You wanna do my job, huh?” The answer was always a resounding no. “I just got shot at, give me a minute.” Like that was any excuse. Mostly Eliot was mad that they weren’t more prepared. He was mad that there were guns involved because that meant that the chances of his team getting hurt were a lot higher. He was mad that he had just run away. He set the screwdriver aside and pulled on a pair of gloves as he opened up the back of the display case and pulled out the document as gently as possible.

 

Parker’s hair hung down from the top of the elevator where she was sticking her head out and she moved like she might try to get into the elevator with him. “Hey, no. Lemme just-- - And then you can take it up to the roof like we talked about.” Eliot’s heart was in his throat. He could hear it pounding away in his ears. This was absolutely delicate work. He didn’t want to be the reason that this damn thing got damaged. He was careful when he slipped it into a plastic sleeve and rolled it to dump it in a poster tube that Hardison had been very adamant that they used. 

 

Wordlessly, he held it up for Parker to take. The service hatch banged closed as soon as she snatched it up and the whirring of her pulley system told Eliot that she was free and clear. 

 

Nate was muttering to himself and Hardison couldn’t really hear it. Sophie had gone quiet a while ago but they all just assumed it was because she was wining and dining the guests to keep them from getting found out so fast. Eliot fixed his hair as he exited the elevator and made sure to press the button to get the doors to close as quickly as possible. 

 

It felt, for a moment, like they could breathe. At least until Hardison made that noise he makes when things are decidedly not good. 

 

“Someone’s piggybacking on my connection!” which really shouldn’t have been a surprise. They had a visiting team that they knew little about and Eliot had only been able to grumble out a few things about how many they were and how well trained they looked. 

 

“Can you trace it?!” the withering look that Hardison shot Nate kept him from asking any other questions. “I’m gonna try and see if I can bounce it back and-- -” everything else was lost in his furious typing. He was zeroing in. He made another noise and everyone visibly stiffened. “Guys, they’re in this parking lot….” He didn’t need to say anything else, because Nate was already bursting out of Lucille’s doors and striding over to where another van (red, and definitely not Lucille) sat idling. The doors at the back were yanked open unceremoniously. 

 

Hardison peeked over Nate’s shoulder as a very startled man inside the van, bespeckled and disheveled. “Ben… We got a problem!” he was shouting into a comm that only infuriated Hardison further. 

 

“Hey! I know you!” He pointed an accusatory finger over Nate’s shoulder. “You’re al1ensdidit! Riley Poole!” The man Hardison was currently shouting at looked like he wanted to shrink into his sweater and cease to exist. Until the mention of his name. And then he perked right up. 

 

“You’ve heard of me?” 


End file.
